


Limestone Fermata

by Wren Truesong (waywren)



Category: Hatoful Kareshi | Hatoful Boyfriend
Genre: Beginnings, F/F, F/M, Families of Choice, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Yuuya Only Writes Once, cheerful disregard for continuity and causality, early morning psychosis, pigeon care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 08:46:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2806553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywren/pseuds/Wren%20Truesong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A song, however foolish the singers, lasts longest sung in chorus.  Two evenings and a morning in a cavewoman's romantic comedy.  Hiyoko's heart burns fierce to warm her friends... but she still never gets to hit anything!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Limestone Fermata

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tacendaluna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tacendaluna/gifts).



> Thanks, as ever, are owed to [Ellen Brand](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellen_Brand/pseuds/Ellen_Brand), snickerer, gamlain, and [Ocianne](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Ocianne/pseuds/Ocianne)\--who in particular played midwife to this while struggling with her own Yuletide labours! I've lifted text directly from the game where appropriate; you'll probably be able to tell where.
> 
> I went mildly nuts with the research on this one. XD Notes on birdie body language are pretty much mined and taken liberties with from [Understanding Bird Body Language: What your Parrot or your Other Bird is Trying to Tell You](http://www.peteducation.com/article.cfm?c=15+1795&aid=3334).  
> Featherlacing is taken with much handwaving and liberties from [Lacing Fantail Pigeons](http://youtu.be/wIFhWRLQ0Tc) by Lance Christensen. I've tried to keep everything understandable without actually hitting the refs. XD

_We have to part with everyone, eventually. If it comes a little early, then... that's life._

_I don't care how long I have._

_I'm happy enough just being with Ryouta._

_...but, live as long as you can, Ryouta. Live as long as you can, so that you can take wonderful memories with you when you return to the sky._

I’m not sure how long we just sit there on the bench, huddling for warmth. Ryouta perches on my knee and tucks his head into the crook of my shoulder, and his wings fold around my shoulders like a feathery cloak, soft and warm. It’s a little awkward, and his toes are going to leave little round bruises on me soon, but I wouldn’t change him for anything.

...Well, maybe if I could put a little more weight on him.  He should be bruising me a lot faster than this. Hollow bones are no excuse!

Still, it’s getting pretty late… Ryouta has enough health troubles without me keeping him out all night.

“C’mon,” I murmur into his feathers.  “I’ll walk you home.”

Silence.  

...Is he asleep?  No… he’s pulling away now, trying to move off my lap.  

Not so fast! Special Restraining Hug Attack, go!

“Ryouta.  C’mon.  What did we just say about love and truth and staying together as long as we can?”

He freezes, and sighs, tucking his head back over my shoulder.  I bet he wants to avoid my eyes.

“...Gotvictedweekago,” he mumbles.

I’m hearing things. I’ve got to be.  “What was that?”

“I got evicted a week ago,”

“That’s what I thought you said,” I say.  Or I think I do.  It’s hard to hear past the roaring in my ears.  

“Hiyoko?  Hiyoko, are you okay?” I can just barely make him out, but he sounds worried. “Your eyes are glowing.”

“I’m fine,” I smile for him.  It doesn’t seem to help.  “I’m just going to make you a new pillow.”

“Don’t!  Please, Hiyoko, it doesn’t matter, okay? I was... “ He sighs so deeply I worry he’s going to blow away.  That’s never a good sign.

I’d better calm down, or he’ll worry himself sick.

Sicker.  No thanks to that jerk--

No. Breathing. A hunter is _calm._

Ryouta’s still talking.

“He figured out I'd been using her seal even after she went into the coma, and ... he'd been trying to get us kicked out, anyway.”

“Still not hearing a reason _not_ to go hurt him.”

“It wasn’t just us, it was the whole building.  He wants to convert the whole place into those weird new high birdhouse things.”

Wait, I remember seeing those in a magazine! They make me think of bees… what were they again… “The Birdyhives?”

“Yeah. So this was the perfect excuse--he said he wouldn't bother with the expense of a fraud case if I just got out. I've been perching in trees and showering at school ever since.”

“ _Bastard_.” I have to hold back not to hug too tight.  “Sure you don’t want a cushion?  It could be your housewarming present.”

“I’m really, really sure.  It kind of was fraud, and what if you got in trouble? A human hurting a bird…”

Would be in really, really big trouble. Like, Hawk Party killer robots, trouble; Kangaroo courts are too much bother.  And then who’d look after Ryouta?

 _Oh._  

Something resolves inside my head, leaving me feeling like an idiot.  Not that that’s new or anything, but really, losing sight of something this important?

“...Fine, then.” I gather him up. “Where’s your stuff?”

He flips his wings a little, just enough to ruffle my hair with the wind.“Wh-why are you picking me up? And why are you asking?”

“Because we’ll need it if you’re going to move in, duh.”

“If I’m going to--? Hiyoko! You don’t have to do that…”

“Of course I do, birdie-baka. What do you think “I love you” means?” That stuns him good and proper; I just sail on.  “I’ll just take you home with me.  I've got plenty of room.”

Ryouta can’t quite repress a huff of laughter. “You live in a _cave_. You could house twenty of me and not notice.”

“Exactly!” I crow.  It’s so cute when I can get him just pedantic enough to forget I’m trying to convince him of things. “And if I _do_ somehow get twenty of you, I'll just dig another room!”

He cocks his head, narrowing his focus on me as finely as he can. Other birds call it ‘flashing,’ for the way it makes the eye flicker, but I like to think of it as ‘staring at Hiyoko to see where the crazy comes out.’  

“ ....It's a limestone cave,” he points out.

I just grin.  “My fists are mighty!”

 _That_ gets the laugh I’ve been working for; he even leans up to preen my hair.  “Okay, okay, you win.  We can visit the shrine in the morning, okay? Right now, I just want sleep…”

I cradle him close.  More questions can wait.  “Just rest, then. I’ll take care of you.”

“Knew that…” He yawns, leaning his head against my shoulder again. “Always carryin’ me home.  G’nite, monkey...”

“No matter how big you get.  Sleep well, birdie.”

 

* * *

 

Life doesn’t stop, even for love. Even grief doesn’t get you more than a couple of days off.  Ryouta spends most of it cleaning and rearranging our cave for both of us, while I gird my barbarian loins to face that most terrible of enemies:

Paperwork.

There’s change of address forms at the council office, permission for a bird to live in a human area from the council of elders (their office is the third cave from the left on the west side, and woe betide you if you mix it up with the third cave from the right!), emancipation for late-youth orphan forms, and that’s just the stuff from the outside world!  The forms from St Pigeonation’s are much, much worse.  Good thing Ryouta’s and my scholarships were both established as for the whole three years, or we’d be in for it.

At least caves don’t require rent.  Without that I don’t think Mrs Kawara would ever have let me strike out on my own at the beginning of middle school, no matter how much I was costing her to feed without Mr Kawara to provide for us.  Without me taking up room, she could sell the big house and live much more cheaply, just her and Ryouta…but she still insisted I come over for dinner every night, and sent Ryouta with bento for both of us all through middle school.

…that stopped with high school, when she got sick.  That should’ve been the first sign… I’m just ashamed I hadn’t noticed.

Still, what’s the point of dwelling on bad pasts? I’m here for mybirdie _now._

...Even if I do have to drop most of my clubs to do it, which accounts for some more of the paperwork.  Even ‘I’ll-sub-in-if-you-need-me’ participation requires you to be a part-time club member in this school, so I have to sign out of baseball, soccer, kendo, migration, and birdwatching in one big lump.  

The track team is going to cry at me; somehow I ended up doing all the team paperwork, and they’re going to have to put up with inky clawmarks and hemp hulls all over again.  San-kun is sweet enough that he’ll just preen my hair and look sad, and then ask me if I can come back.

Every day.  

Oh, well.

Nageki-kun will understand, though I’ll have to try and scrape up time to visit; Ryouta’s the onlybirdie who speaks to him besides me.

The infirmary will tick along just fine without me. Yuuya-sempai’s competent enough to keep the place shining, and maybe making hospital corners while he plays his little spy-games with Iwamine-sensei will help his powers of concentration.  It might at least help him hide his wiretaps better.

As for student council…?

“Hiyoko?” Ryouta’s voice is muffled. Must be the haze I’m in. Or just the stacks of paperwork.

“Mm?”

“If you want a mouthful of ink I won’t stop you, but could you watch out for your shirt?  Doing laundry is expensive.”

Yeah, it is pretty awful. And talk about sticker shock for Ryouta, he doesn’t have to wear much more than a tie--

Wait. Ink?

I spit out the pen with probably a little more force than it deserves, since it clatters against the cave wall.  But! My teeth and my shirt are both 100% ink-free! ♥

And the quill … isn’t broken.  Except now there are more of it? Wait, those are white. And not equipped as pens. And now there are more of them.

There’s a whole mess of them, in fact, blowing in on the wind--

...and they probably came from the utterly bedraggled mess of dove standing in the mouth of the cave.

Ryouta and I are both on our feet in a moment; he heads off at an angle, but I go straight for the door.

“Sakuya-kun?” I ask, reaching out.  “It is you, isn’t it?” I hadn't realised just how much of his character was bound up in his stance and his air of refinement. With his feathers sodden and his ribbon drooping, he's almost unrecognisable.

He just nods, miserably.  

My stomach clenches. So do my fists.  For the proud noblebird to break down like this--!

“What happened?” I demand. “Were you attacked? Do I need to maim someone?”

Ryouta tosses something warm and soft over my head.  I’m not a falcon! I don’t need hooding!

“Down, Hiyoko,” he scolds.  “Think of the consequences!  And worse, the paperwork!”

Everything in me cringes at the thought of more paperwork, but if someone's lifted an unkind wing to Sakuya I'll--!

There's a weird, faint noise, something breathy and almost amused.  I fumble off the thing (warm, a little rough—oh. It's a towel) to see Sakuya's shoulders shake.  Is he laughing or crying?  Either way, that just makes me more worried.

“So fierce, Tohsaka,” he muses fondly.  Maybe it was laughter, but it's as bitter as ponzu.  

Ryouta confiscates the towel and wraps it around Sakuya.  “That's our Hiyoko.  Come sit down, I'll poke up the stove.  Hiyoko, if you're going to stand there raging, do something useful and go break more firewood.”

“Can't I just warm you with the fiery ragings of my fighting spirit?” Ack, not the Glare!  “Kidding, kidding...” I head for the firewood pile. Every one of these logs will stand as substitute for whoever hurt Sakuya!

 

* * *

 

By the time I’ve gotten the woody miscreants disciplined and burning merrily in their cast-iron pyre (mwahahahaha), I’ve calmed down enough to think straight. More importantly, Ryouta’s gotten Sakuya wrapped up in most of our towels and our best quilt, with a bowl of miso to warm him.

“....plebian, but savoury,” Sakuya admits. “Even … comforting.”

“Ryouta makes the best miso.” I can boast about mybirdie's cooking all day... but I'm not about to let myself be distracted, either. “But _now_ will you tell us what happened? Are you sure I can't maim anyone for you?”

“Positive,” he drawls, with a shadow of his usual poise. “It devastates me to disappoint so loyal a follower, but nothing so dramatic as that happened at all. I merely came to visit, and underestimated this country's hellish climate. _So_ barbaric.”

“That's us,” I agree cheerfully. I live in a cave, I know exactly how bad Japan's weather gets. “But you must've been really eager to visit us if you forgot your chauffeur, or a coat, or even a flimsy little convenience store umbrella.”

Sakuya looks away. “Don't flatter yourself,” he mumbles.

“Mm. Just a random whim, huh?” Ryouta and I trade a look, and I reach for my phone. “Well, let me call your family, they must be worried--”

“No!” The bowl crashes to the floor. Good thing it was empty.

Sakuya leaps to his feet, flailing under the weight of the blankets. I've never seen him look so upset.

“Listen!” he gasps. “Don't … don't you dare call my house.”

We stare at him.

“Sakuya-san,” Ryouta says slowly, “did you … run away from home?”

“That sounds bad,” Sakuya protests. “No, I simply left of my own volition.”

Um....

“Meaning you ran away?” I prompt.

Sakuya becomes very interested in shrugging out of the towels.  We're going to have to drag every word out of him, at this rate.

... _Hell_ with this.

Sakuya squawks as I grab him and plunk him down in my lap, towels and all. “Tohsaka! What is the meaning of this? Stop manhandling me!”

“Then stop struggling and evading the question!” I snap. “You don't have to look at us, but if you didn't want us to help you somehow, you wouldn't be here. Just … _talk_ , already.”

Ryouta just settles down beside me, eye to eye with him. “There's no need to pretend here,” he says softly. “All you have to be is you.”

One of those ponzu-laughs again. “And who might that be, pray tell? Just who might that be?”

“My friend,” I offer softly, working at the cottony tangle.

“And mine,” Ryouta avers. “And you're a brilliant student...”

“A snappy dresser,” I grin, as Ryouta gently undoes the soaked, crumpled ribbon. Sakuya makes a noise deep in his throat that _might_ be laughter.

“A natural leader.” Ryouta lays the ribbon aside and starts to preen Sakuya, just at the back of the neck where the feathers are trying to mat from the water. Sakuya quivers a little in my lap, but doesn't protest. I thought that meant fright, but he's sitting quietly... maybe it's just mild discomfort?

Maybe I'd better not mention Yuuya just yet, then. This has to be about his family; we're all too young for almost anything else.

“A fantastic musician,” I say instead, and he _flinches_.

“But not what Father asks of me. Not a Le Bel of Le Bel, a leader of birds and an elite of the elite... and now, no longer his heir.”

Ryouta's always had better self-control than me. He can rhoo comfortingly and preen without ever mussing a feather.

Me? I'm just glad I've got the towel off Sakuya, so I can strangle _it_ and not risk _him_.

“I don't … you had a fight with your dad?” I have to get this right. I have to understand, and listen, and comfort. Or I'll hurt Sakuya.

….more than he already is, anyway. Calm. I can do calm. How do I find calm for both of us?

His fan brushes against my arm, matting from the rain and ragged from stress but still amazingly soft, and I'm reminded of something I learned in the infirmary.

Heh. At least Yuuya will be proud.

“'Fight' is a laughable understatement, Tohsaka,” Sakuya is saying with grim humour. “'The culmination of a vicious debate,' perhaps, ending in.... what are you doing?”

“What does it feel like?” I wonder, carefully stacking his tail feathers in one hand. It's a bit like gathering somebody else's hair for braiding. “I'm lacing your tail.” Well, right now I'm straightening the feathers so I _can_ lace them, but still. “You must feel like a disordered haystack back here, they're all twisted and stuck together.”

He pauses to digest this. “It is somewhat uncomfortable,” he admits. “...thank you.”

“Thank me by finishing your story. 'Ending in' what?”

He sighs, distracted a little by Ryouta's preening, which has worked its way down Sakuya's neck to his left wing. “A demand that I give up music.”

I take a deep breath, and then another. Calm, Hiyoko. If you fly off the handle now, you'll break Sakuya's feathers. Just concentrate on the nice, delicate task, gently tweaking twisted feathers back into position. Slow and gentle as stalking a deer through the brush. Calm. I am calm.

“But why?” Ryouta asks. Good for Ryouta, thinking for both of us. “Isn't that the sort of accomplishment noblebirds are supposed to have?”

Sakuya huffs. “As an _accomplishment_ , perhaps. An idle frippery, the better to cultivate taste and know who best to sponsor.  _Never_ as a career.” His beak gapes in a smirk. “Better still to leave even the accomplishment to those of slightly lesser blood, that they might make themselves useful. I was never supposed to learn in the first place.”

“Why not?” I manage to ask, trying to concentrate on the soft tickle as I run the shafts of his feathers through my fingers, checking for breaks.

“Art is not our realm,” Sakuya shrugs with his free wing. “The joy of creation is the domain of peasants. Our role is to be patrons and promoters, not the artists ourselves. A noble who sows his own wheat is a fool.”

“And what did you say?” Ryouta asks, still so calm.

“I respectfully informed him that I had to disagree, as I could see no evidence that my private recreations interfered in my duties. He, in turn, made it clear that it was not a request, and that no heir of Le Bel would dabble in ephemeralities.”

“...and then?” I'm holding my breath. I can't help it.

Sakuya's voice is all bleak pride. “'Why then, sir,' I told him, 'I must be no heir of Le Bel.'”

“Oh, well done,” Ryouta breathes.

“Damn right!” I can't guts pose with my hands full of tail, but I can at least tell him this: “That music I heard last November... it was too beautiful to just sacrifice, no matter who might be asking.”

He holds very still in my lap. “...thank you, Tohsaka.”

“So, then what?” With the last feather in alignment, I can start properly lacing them—running each feather through my fingers, buttoning the barbels and aligning them so that they lock together in a proper fan, each half atop the next in a smooth line from center out with the center feather fully atop at the peak.  [ It's a lot easier than it sounds ](http://youtu.be/wIFhWRLQ0Tc).

“Then? Then I left, carried on a wave of my own audacity. I was halfway to your …” He hesitates. It's kind of sweet that he doesn't want to say 'hovel.' “...domicile when the storm hit.”

“And glad we are to have you,” Ryouta says firmly, now deep into Sakuya's breast feathers.

“Very glad. I'd've worried so much if you just vanished, Sakuya. I'd've gone on a massive birdiehunt to find you, and probably missed weeks of school doing it.”

Sakuya turns to pin me with one eye, as startled as Ryouta a few nights before. Really, what is it about my favourite birds that they keep doing that? Am I that baffling?

“Tohsaka,” he asks slowly, “Where else would I go?”

 

* * *

 

Rising betimes is kind of a necessity with my lifestyle, but sometimes, even for a hunter-gatherer girl, morning comes just too damn early.

Especially when morning is heralded by the _freaking doorbell._

“Rhoo?” Ryouta wonders sleepily. At least Sakuya sleeps like the dead.

“'ll get it, g'back to sleep,” I mumble, uncurling. Noo, sweet warm blanket and warm feathery birdies, don't _leeeeeave_ me....

shuffle shuffle _ow_ limestone on bare feet shuffle mumble “ ** _What_**.”

The pelican at the door looks nervous.

What, you've never seen a zombie before?

“U-uhm, Pelican Express here with a package for Mister Shirogane Le Bel Sakuya! Is he avail _mmph!?_ ”

He struggles futilely against my hand, which has clamped itself around his beak. Well. How 'bout that.

“Do _not_ wake him up,”I hiss. He nods frantically, so I let go.

“sorryma'amwon'tdoitagain,” he whisper-babbles. “um, it's fine if you sign for him, as long as he's here?”

“...surefineyoubetcha.” Seal. Seal is... in the chest right next to the entrance, like it always is, stamp seal scribble “Are we done yet?”

“It's all just hauling now, miss.” The pelican now looks _far_ too cheerful. I am suspicious. ….wait, how many pieces were listed on that manifest?

...Fifteen. Eight very large boxes, six carefully-stuffed hanger bags, and one gigantic flat-pack box which promises to be a freestanding wardrobe

And a letter.

Somebody. Is going. To _die_.

 

* * *

 

 

Fortunately, exercise always puts a smile on my face and a song in my heart!

And the pelican was so sweet about giving me his thermos of coffee.  It's amazing what you can get with a smile ♥

By the time I'm finished building the wardrobe and hauling it in, Ryouta has woken up and is making breakfast. Sakuya is still in the makeshift nest Ryouta and I made out of my bed, drowsy but content to look on.

“Good morning, birdies! Sakuya, some packages arrived for you this morning. I've already moved the wardrobe in, but you're going to have to put your stuff away, all right?”

“...Certainly,” Sakuya says, with his usual 'oh wait, I have to do something? Well, f you insist' face. He's so cute when you push him around. “Do you know who sent the packages?”

“Nope! Not a clue!” I lie through my teeth. “They just showed up.”

Sakuya gives me an odd look, but shakes it off with a flip of his wings.  “I suppose it matters little.  If they’re sending my things, they’re not of a mind to haul me back with nets.”

“That makes sense,” I agree cheerfully.  The letter wasn't part of the 15 packages; it was just for me.

 

 

> _To Hiyoko._
> 
> _Salut! ☆_
> 
> _I trust you are well._
> 
> _A little bird told me you and Ryouta-kun have been taking care of Sakuya._
> 
> _He's a pain, but I know you'll be able to handle him just fine._
> 
> _Since he was so silly as to run off without packing a bag, I've taken the liberty of collecting his things and sending them along to you, along with something to keep them in._
> 
> _His trust fund is solely his; the card and paperwork associated with them are in the box marked 01._
> 
> _Please feel free to make use of them for household expenses; it's quite within the terms, and should help with his self-respect. He won't take well to being a freeloader._
> 
> _However, I have two favours to ask... the problem is, they're a little contradictory._
> 
> _First, please don't tell him I'm the one who sent these things._
> 
> _He's not stupid; he'll realize it soon enough if he lets himself, but he's a bit fragile right now._
> 
> _He's given up so much at a blow; he's probably not ready to accept the brother he's been taught to despise all his life._
> 
> _So, if you can, please let him come to his decisions about me in his own time._
> 
> _But that leads to the other favour._
> 
> _You see, I have something to tell him._
> 
> _Something very important._
> 
> _Something I've been meaning to tell him his entire life._
> 
> _Since you're..._
> 
> _Well, I guess I'm still a little unsure, myself._
> 
> _If he ever says he wants to see me, I'll think it over._
> 
> _When that time comes, let me know, okay?_
> 
> _I'll keep in touch._
> 
> _Adieu!_
> 
> _\--Sakazaki Yuuya_
> 
> _P.S. Please go ahead and show this to Ryouta-kun if you think he should see it. He's a good bird, and anybirdie would be lucky to have him. If I had to lose the battle for your heart, I'm glad it was to the two best birds I know._

  
Poor Yuuya. I hadn't even known he felt that strongly about me! Well, he's family now, and we'll look after both the silly fantails, Ryouta and I.

Someday soon, Sakuya will be an established musician, and at his first concert, Ryouta and I will be in the front row.... and so will Yuuya, even if we have to drag him bound and gagged.

And when Yuuya is finally ready to tell this horrible thing, we'll be there for them, every step of the way.

It's the promise of a lifetime.


End file.
